


December's Blue Moon

by nagitok



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Anxious Thomas Barrow, Autistic Thomas Barrow, Christmas Fluff, Depressed Thomas Barrow, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Oblivious Thomas, Obvious Richard, Period-Typical Homophobia, Queer Culture, Queer History, Richard is probably mentally ill too, Secret Relationship, because I said so
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:46:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21563200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagitok/pseuds/nagitok
Summary: It's been months since the Royal Visit from Hell and Thomas is taking a weekend holiday to London to visit someone special to him for Christmas.Fluff and a lil angst ensue!
Relationships: Thomas Barrow/Richard Ellis
Comments: 16
Kudos: 111





	1. Chapter 1

Steam hisses and whistles roar as the train pulls into the station. Thomas’ heartbeat quickens as he begins to collect his belongings. The train hadn’t even stopped moving yet, but he was already rushing to assure he had every bag and his hat secure. A few impatient others had stood, and Thomas was one of them. His knuckles snapped and ached as he held onto a support. _Soon, soon…_ he just had to wait for the train to stop.  
When it did, Thomas had to fight against a swarm of suits and dresses. Finally, he was onto the platform. _Now where was he? Had he even shown up?_  
“Mister Barrow,” a voice rung and Thomas turns to meet Mister Richard Ellis. “Ah, was looking for you.” Thomas smiles at him sheepishly, his cheeks burning in the crowd. _Don’t be obvious._  
“Well, I’m right here.” Richard smiles back. “Can I help you with your things?”  
“I’ve got it.”

“It’s no trouble.”

“Really, I’ll be fine.” God he’d missed Richard.  
“If you insist.” Richard gives him another grin, placing his hands into his pockets with a nod. “Come on, then. I’ve got us a car.”

* * *

The drive in the London rain is unbearably quiet. Richard doesn’t push him to talk, but Thomas feels as though the silence is stifling and full of judgement.   
“I’ve got a surprise planned.” Richard says after a few minutes. Thomas was thinking of something to talk about, really. Intuitive and perfect as ever. “Do you now?” Thomas asks without facing him.  
Funny. When he was _Richard Ellis, visiting Royal dresser and potential friend_ , it was fine. Of course Thomas had felt a bit shy and nervous. How could he not around a handsome, wonderful, kind man like him? But now that he was _Richard Ellis, Thomas Barrow’s homosexual beau_? He couldn’t fight the butterflies when around him.

_Just talk to him._ Thomas told himself. _You’ve talked to men before._

But none of them ever cared about him like Richard did.

_Talk to him like you would Andy or someone._

If Andy was handsome and funny and witty and possibly liked him.

“Mmhmm, I think you’ll like what I've got planned.” Richard said, driving with one hand. Not just with one hand, but his entire posture is relaxed. He leans back, fingers delicately gripping the wheel. Thomas found it made him look like a dashing adventurer or a movie star or something, but wasn’t going to say that.

“I like every moment I spend with you.” Thomas said with a laugh. “Likewise.” Richard didn't hesitate with another smile.  
Thomas watched him. His smile, how Thomas _loved_ his smile. Dammit, his cheeks were warming up again. He couldn’t decide if he hated or loved the way he melted like chocolate around Richard.

“How has life been faring you, Mister Barrow?”  
He also loves how easy Richard makes conversation.

“Decent. Been a bit boring since you’ve left, if I’m honest.”

Everyone’s paired up with their own lives and homes, and he’s feeling a bit lonely again.

“Better than getting yourself into trouble, I’d presume?” Richard asks.

“Depends on the trouble.” Better than prank calls? No. Better than being arrested? Yes.   
“I see.” Richard replies. He has that spark in his blue eyes again, and Thomas can't help watching him. He's staring, and has to force himself to stop.  
"Are we getting into trouble tonight, Mister Ellis?” Thomas asks with a raised brow.

“I’d say depends on who you ask.”  
“Colour me intrigued.” Thomas says with a smirk.  
“Well, can’t spend Christmas with my darling and not have a little fun, now can I?” 

Thomas smiles again, and again he has to stop himself from staring. He turns to look out onto the grey streets. Even if it was raining, he could see his breath collect on the windows. He fidgeted with his hands in his laps, running his fingers over the smooth material of his glove. _“My darling.” He called me his darling._  
  
“I’d forgotten it was Christmas. 'Course I remembered, but... I um...”  
“It’s easy to lose track and forget about celebrating ourselves, isn’t it?” Another smooth save by Richard. Thomas wasn’t sure how to silently thank him. “Yeah, it is.”

He wasn’t a fan of the holiday. Too many bad memories, the cold irritated his injury, and it was a lot of extra work. At least this year, he had a weekend with Richard. _A weekend with Richard._  
It hits him and his stomach churns with anxiety: he’s on holiday with another man. Something he’s wanted for a long time of course, but now that it was a reality? He didn't want to ruin it, he had to savour every second. Make everything perfect- _Stop being so bloody anxious and calm down._

“We’ll make the most of it.” As Richard spoke, he reaches over with his other hand to take Thomas’. So _that’s_ why he drove with one hand. Or at least, that's what Thomas will tell himself.


	2. Chapter 2

The drive isn’t too long and painful. The rain had only grown heavier however, and it was already dark out. Lights from homes and businesses glowed in the mist like ghosts of fire passing them by. It takes a few minutes after they’ve reached their destination, but Richard finds an open spot to park the car (London is certainly more crowded than York).   
“I’ve an umbrella here somewhere.” Richard says, bending over every which way to rummage about nooks and compartments. “We can share.”  
“Share?”  
Another smile. “Yes. Share. Is that a problem, Mister Barrow?”  
“No.”  
Richard finds said umbrella and opens it alongside the car door. The rain pelts against the navy umbrella and even from the other side, Thomas can feel the chill. “Pardon me,” Richard excuses himself, closing the door and going round to open Thomas’.  
“After you.” He holds the umbrella up and side steps to make room. Thomas exits with a “Thank you.” They collect his bags, and it’s terribly close under the umbrella. He’s practically forced to touch Richard, hand to hand (or bag to bag) and hip to hip. He doesn't mind but does overthink it as they walk the street, Richard leading the way and getting the door for him.

What a gentleman.

It’s a hotel. Quiet and empty, Richard leads Thomas past the front desk. “I’ve already taken the liberty of preparing our room before I had to pick you up at the station.” Thomas shouldn’t be surprised after seeing how the Royal Staff operates, but he is. “Now are you sure you don’t need any help?” Thomas shakes his head. “I told you, I’ve got it.” It’s only a weekend, he didn’t pack much. He follows Richard.  
The halls may have stained carpet but the wallpaper is fresh. For them, it’s a treat. He hopes Richard didn’t spend too much money on a room.

Richard gets the door and Thomas steps inside.  It’s a nice room. Decently spacious and decorated. There’s a window at the back, and Richard brushes past Thomas to close the curtains.

“Thank you.” Thomas says, setting his things down. He begins to unpack and organise, a habit he needs to do. “For inviting me to visit.”

“Of course. I only wish we could had seen each other sooner.”

Thomas doesn’t reply because his eye catches a glint of silver between two dress shirts. “By the way,” He says, collecting it and approaching Richard. “Here.”  
It’s the pendant. Thomas holds it out for Richard. He doesn’t take it.  
“Thomas, that’s for you to hold onto.”

“ _Thomas”. Right, because they’re alone._

“Said you gave it to me for until we met again. We’ve met again.” Thomas doesn’t mind holding onto it longer, but Richard’s word is his word.  
Richard laughs. It’s adorable, he lowers his head as he does so. Bright cheeks push up in a wide grin, and the laugh itself is sweet and jovial. It reminds Thomas of music. “Suppose you’re right. But let me tell you something.” Richard moves a little closer. His voice is light and carefree, and Thomas wishes his voice sounded like that. “I want you to hold onto it again, until we meet again. And when we do, hold onto it again and again and again. If I took it now, there would be no guarantee of us meeting another day, now would there?” Richard doesn’t take the pendant but does take Thomas’ hand so that the chain runs between both of their fingers. “As long as you hold onto it, it’s a promise for me that I will see dear Mister Thomas Barrow again.”  
 _Oh._ Thomas has his mouth agape. Richard laughs at his expression.

“Now then,” Richard says, removing his jacket. He sits on his bed with relaxed poise. “What do you want to do? We’ve time to kill, and a room all to ourselves with rain to drown out the noise.”

Thomas carefully tucks the pendant into his belongings then removes his own jacket. “I’ve an idea.” He steps slow and deliberate towards the bed. His left hand is acting up- the nerves sting from the cold and his knuckles have stiffened, but he’ll be alright. “Oh, do you now?” Another grin as Richard raises his brow in faux surprise. Thomas doesn’t speak, unbuttoning his shirt and reaching over to caress Richard’s face. “Just might.”  
“Sit down, you.” Richard instructs as he wraps his arms around Thomas’ waist and pulls him to the bed with him.

“No interruptions this time.” Thomas says, closing his eyes before leaning in. His heart soars as their lips touch, and he feels life bloom over him. “No, not this time.” Richard says, running his thumb along Thomas’ cheek bone. Another kiss.

It had been so long since anyone had touched him with such care and affection. Even longer since it was from a romantic gesture. Richard presses his lips to Thomas’, a hand cusped over his cheek. Thomas melts into the kiss, mirroring his movements. He'd had never had someone make the first move like Richard did. Kissing him first, and cupping his face first. Loving him first.   
Cold fingers reach up to rest arms around Richard’s neck, taking in the aroma of fresh laundry and aftershave. Thomas kisses him back between smiles from the faint taste of mint on him.  
From their natural rhythm, Thomas leans back onto the bed looking up to Richard over him. He moves a hand to brush aside Thomas’ hair. There’s a twinkle in his eyes again. “I love you,” He says before trailing fingers down Thomas’ neck, then arm, down to his wrist. Richard raises his hand to his own lips. Thomas gasps, feeling gentle kisses over his bandaged hand.

He can’t breath.

“Stop. Please- stop.” Thomas struggles to speak, but he gets the words out. No hesitation or arguing, Richard releases his hand and backs off of him. “Thomas? Did I hurt you?”  
“No.” Thomas sits up and turns away from him. “I’m fine. I-“ He cradles his gloved hand in his right. It didn’t hurt. Perhaps stung a bit from the pressure, but it didn’t hurt.

It wasn’t that.  
Not really.

“Forgive me. Was I moving too fast? Was it because of what I said? I-” Richard asks. His voice has something in it- something like hesitation or a shake. Something that isn’t Richard, and he doesn’t know if it’s cause for alarm or not. But he notices it, and it breaks Thomas’ heart. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” He loves him too. He just can’t say it right now.  
His chest hurts and his eyes are stinging. Breathing… he’s struggling to breath. The room is spinning.  
He needs to leave, he doesn’t want to leave. But he needs to- he _needs_ to. The police. This was wrong. This was sinful. _He is foul. He is a pervert. He is a criminal. The prison- oh god, if Richard-_

“Thomas? Richard’s voice pierces him. It’s like someone dropped ice cubes down the back of his shirt. He can’t breath- he-  
“ _Thomas?_ ” Richard repeats. He wasn’t on the bed anymore. He’s kneeling before him. He’s frozen, perhaps afraid or perhaps simply not sure if he should touch Thomas.

“This is- I can’t do this.”

“Darling…” Richard extends his hands for Thomas. Not touching him, but offering. “I’m here, you’re not alone. It’s alright, it’s only you and me. You’re safe.” Bitter tears roll down Thomas’ cheeks as he nods. His hands clench until his knuckles are burning white as his breathing slows. 

_In and out, in and out, count to ten._

Richard stays beside him, and when Thomas is ready, he accepts Richard with trembling hands. Richard takes him in an embrace, a hand brushing his hair. Thomas gasps, holding him close with silent tears.

Thomas isn’t sure how much time has passed before he speaks, his voice cracked and rough like gravel when he finally does. “I’m so scared.” Richard rubs his back. “It never ends well for me. Something’ll happen.”

“Thomas,” Richard pulls away only to meet Thomas’ eyes. He smiles. It’s not his Richard Ellis smile or a grin, something much more subtle. It’s gentle and warm. He runs his thumb over Thomas’ cheek again to dry his tears. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to meet someone like you?” Richard gives him a smile, brushing his hair back. “Much too long. I’d be a fool to throw that away.” He wipes the fresh tears from Thomas’ eyes. Thomas shakes his head. “That’s what I thought before. I thought they loved me but they-“

It’s an interruption but a gentle one. Firm, but supportive.

“You are made of diamonds, my love, and I’m so sorry most never bothered to break through your earth to realise that.” Richard takes Thomas’ hands in his own again and raises them to his lips. “I’m not used to this, silly as that is. Not used to your kindness.” Thomas says with an exhale. Breathing is doable, but could be easier.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be here for as long as it takes for you to get used to it.” Richard gives Thomas’ hand another kiss.

Thomas had forgotten he was down to an unbuttoned shirt and trousers. The realisation practically sets his face on fire. “D’you want to stay here? We could go for a walk. I know it’s raining, but we could get some fresh air if you’d like.” Richard offers. Thomas shakes his head, eyes focusing downward on his knees. “No, being out- that’d only make it worse.”

“Staying in it is, then.” Richard says holding onto Thomas’ hands with gentle care- free for him to back away if he so wishes, but clasped just enough to let him know that he wasn’t going anywhere.

“I used to be like you.” The words flow from Thomas with disgusting admittance like vomit. “Proud, confident, sure of myself.”

_ It felt like a century ago.  _

“Alright with what I am.”

“I think you’d be surprised how many men share your predicament.” Thomas frowns. It was unfair: Richard was confident, suave, handsome- and he _always_ knew what to say. “You’re just a man about town then, aren’t you? Like I said- I don’t- or at least, I didn’t know about all this. I feel inexperienced.” Thomas’ temples twinge in frustration. He’d wasted years of his life feeling completely and utterly alone. Then he finds out there are men out there who not only have a community, but are _happy_. Men who are louder and bolder and braver and nothing bad ever happens to them.

He tries his hand and gets caught every time.

And now? When he finally gets a taste of safety, Thomas ruins it.

Just like him, wasn’t it? To ruin everything good. “I don’t mind any of that.” Richard says, arching his back in a stretch before sitting beside him. Thomas shakes his head. “No, it’s not about that.” Why was it so hard to explain? “Everything always goes wrong. Maybe I’m cursed.” He fidgets awkwardly with his hands, too prideful and stoic to accept how much he already missed Richard holding him. Thomas sighs from the pressure on his chest. He thinks his ribcage might burst. “You’re the first person in my life I’ve… really been with.” 

_ How embarrassing was that?  _

“Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had a torrid fling or two before but…” The Duke didn’t count, not really. They were both young selfish brats exploiting the other. “The first person who doesn’t want to use me, and who’s interested.”

He couldn’t say what he was really thinking: _“The first person to really truly know and love me.”_

It was a double-edged sword, how easy Richard was to talk to. Thomas buried his heart underneath briar bushes, but for Richard Ellis, he bloomed with soft rose petals.

“Then darling, it is an honour.” Richard moves back onto the bed to take Thomas in his arms. He's delicate and careful, and Thomas feels like he may cry from it. _Stupid_. “How lucky am I for the stars to have led me to you?” Richard says, gently kissing Thomas on the side of his forehead. “Think I’m the lucky one.” Thomas says, accepting his embrace. He turns to rests his arms around his waist, placing his chin upon Richard’s shoulder. 

“Some day, it’ll be easier.” Richard says, stroking Thomas’ raven hair. “I assure you.”

“Tired of waiting for ‘somedays’.”

“Then we’ll focus on getting through today. Can you do that?”

Thomas pauses, raising his head to meet Richard’s face. Richard’s smiling like Richard again. Thomas knows this from the way his blue eyes twinkle like stars. “I can.”

“Good.” Richard gives him a squeeze and a kiss. Thomas wiggles in his arms, a reluctant hint that he’d decided it’d be for the best if he was let go. Richard complies without hesitation. “I must be boring. I know you wanted an evening with me- And I…” Thomas reclines on the bed, resting his head on the pillow. “Darling, you are not at all a bore.” Richard reaffirms. He moves from the bed to kneel beside Thomas again. “I wouldn’t invite you out here if I thought you were boring.” The both of them chuckle lightly while Richard caresses Thomas’ face. He liked that, whenever Richard touched him. Richard stands up, giving Thomas his space. “Perhaps it’s for the best that we stay in tonight. What with all the rain.”

Thomas wonders how he can always see the good. “Think you’re right.”


	3. Chapter 3

It’s no longer raining when he wakes up. It’s terribly dark due to the curtains, slivers of grey sunlight fighting their way through wine fabrics. The room is cold and bedsheets lay tangled over him. Thomas shifts and yawns, turning to find the bed more spacious than he remembered. His eyes focus and it comes back to him: he and Richard pushed the two beds together to make a double. It’s a pleasant thing to wake up to.

The next thing Thomas notices is that he’s in the room alone. He spots Richard’s belongings laid out with pristine condition and organisation, not expecting less of a royal dresser. _Royal dresser._ My, what all the monarchists back home may think, assuming they could see past the legalities and morals of their relationship.

Thomas climbs out of bed and prepares himself for the day. He gives a clock a glance and notices it’s well past nine in the morning. There’s a momentary twinge of guilt before he decides it’s nice to sleep in.

He heads downstairs through the lobby. Electric bulbs hum and there is a man fast asleep in an arm chair. Before he can approach the front desk, he turns to the flood of light from glass panes and notices Richard. He has his back pressed against the window, and is looking up at the sky. 

He’s always looking up. 

“Mornin’.” Richard greets him as Thomas steps outside into the brisk cold. He’s smoking a cigarette, taking a drag before facing him. It’s a weekend so the streets are quiet, but compared to York, the air is heavy and the faint roar of automobiles is inescapable. “Morning.” Thomas has to fight back a smile. He doesn’t trust himself to be circumspect, unfortunately. “Mind if I join?” Richard smiles with a roll of smoke escaping his lips, handing him one and his lighter.

“Sleep well?”

“I did.” Thomas lights it up.

“Best night of sleep I’ve had in years, if I’m honest.”

“I slept alright.”

Richard gives him a look, and Thomas isn’t quite sure what he means by it. Then follows another smile. “Been thinking… I hadn’t offended you at all last night, had I Mister Barrow?” Thomas purses his lips after an exhale of smoke. “No, not at all. If fact, I could ask you the same thing.” 

“Don’t think you have it in you to offend me, Mister Barrow.” That’s incorrect, but Thomas can’t find it in himself to refute it. Instead he’ll make it a joke. “I’ll have to try harder then.”

Richard chuckles and Thomas is pleased with himself for it. “Thought today we’d wander around, take things easy.” A pause. He’s thinking, but Thomas isn’t sure on what. “I can give you a personal tour of any place you’d like.” He’s not facing Thomas when he speaks, looking up at the sky again. “What d’you keep looking up for?”

This catches his attention. Richard rewards his question with another smile. Thomas finds him even more handsome in the daylight.

“Admiring the daytime moon.” 

“What?” Thomas glances up to a cloudy sky. “Can’t see anything.”

“Course not. Even if the clouds were gone, it’s the new moon.” Richard hums as he speaks. “But it’s there. I think it’s always good to take time to appreciate the moon. Most only love her when she’s full, but never when she’s on her own.” He lowers his cigarette and faces him. “Sometimes it’s the most lovely of things that are what go unnoticed. Don’t you agree, Mister Barrow?”

 _What does he mean by that? Surely he’s not talking about me?_ “Ah, s’pose so.” Thomas gives him a reassuring smile. Richard shrugs and tosses aside his cigarette to stomp it out. “If nothing else, it’s a lovely day and the clouds have some interesting shapes to them.” He laughs, perhaps aware of the juvenile statement but not at all minding. “Maybe we could go cloud gazing sometime.” Thomas asks. It’s an impromptu response. He just wants to spend time with Richard. “Think I can do you one better than that.”

Good. Richard didn’t say no.  
“Not here in the city. We should go next time I’m in York.” A confirmation. “Alright.” It’s not the first time Richard’s assured him they’ll meet again, but it feels like it is. “I’m a bit cold, why don’t we head back inside?” It’s not that cold in his opinion, but Thomas nods.

* * *

“Now then.” Richard stretches, after assuring the door is locked behind them. He’s always so careful, having doubled or even tripled checked. “What’re we doing today, Thomas?” He smiles, the use of his name ringing in his voice. It’s so natural. Thomas can’t imagine how he does it, weaving back and forth with such finesse from whenever they’re in public to private and back again. “Uh-” Thomas’ voice cracks.

Damn. What _does_ he want to do? It’s a question that makes him realise no one’s ever asked him that before. Or at least, not in a really long time. “Thought you had somethin’ special planned.” 

Richard tilts his head and folds his arms at this, and Thomas fears he’s offended him. He’s thinking- must be. “I do. However,” He takes Thomas by the hand and leads him to the bed - their constructed double bed - and sits down with him. “I was planning to surprise you, but I’ll admit it. After last night, I’m not so sure. I wouldn’t want to do anything to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Now he's got his interest. Thomas’ fingers fidget against his knee the other gathered in Richard’s hand again. He’s gentle as ever, and though Thomas wouldn’t dream of pulling away, he appreciates that Richard would let him. “Please, don’t think I don’t- I didn’t mean to ruin your plans.”

“You haven’t ruined anything.”

“I,” Thomas sighs, rolling his eyes. Why’s it so damn hard to just get his point across. Richard waits. “Please, can you forget about last night? I know that’s what this is about. I wasn’t thinking clearly, and I worked myself up. Please.” He feels his heart outside on his chest. Open and exposed. _“Please.”  
_Richard’s eyes meet Thomas’, and for a moment, the room feels deathly cold in spite of the buzz of the radiator. “If that’s what you want, I will. However,”

There’s always a _“however”_.

“If anything should trouble you again, let me know.” Richard has this look on his face again. Thomas is certain he’s thinking about something - the gears turning, but he isn’t sure. “You can always say no to me, Thomas.” He adds. “I know that.” He does, logically, but that doesn’t mean he will. He fears if he does, Richard will leave. Richard will see him for who he is, and it’ll blow up in his face. Then he can add Richard Ellis to the list of men who humoured his _“condition”_ before tossing him aside like a broken toy. “I want you to be happy.”

Damn it all; perceptive as always. Does he think Thomas isn’t?  
“I am… least, when I’m with you.” Richard chuckles. It’s light and gives Thomas a warmth like honey in tea. He raises his hand to caress his face, brushing back some of his raven hair.

“Where would I be if I hadn’t met you?”

“Working today, probably. Only as a _sort-of_ valet, since I’m certain Mister Miller is well.” Another laugh before Richard kisses him. Thomas is melting.

* * *

“I told you,” Thomas says as Richard checks the door again. They had finished separating the beds, and now it was time to assure the door was locked. “I’ve never been to London. Only on business.”  
“And now you’re here for pleasure.” Richard’s eyes have that spark again as he smiles. He rattles the knob - good, it’s locked.

“Don’t even know what’s in London…” Thomas admits, his hands in his coat’s pockets as their footsteps crush into the stained carpet.

“Well, it’s got shops and gardens and a zoo…” Richard gives a carefree sort of shrug as his voice trails off with a bit of dramatic flair.

“You’re committed to me deciding, aren’t you?”

“I am.”

So he wasn’t going to be let off so easy. Thomas’ mind flickers like a zoetrope. It’d be easier if they could do what normal couples do. It’d also be easier if what he actually wanted wasn’t… well, something a Londoner would frown upon most likely. But that’d just have to be his punishment for pushing him into a corner.

“Alright, remember- you said anything I want to see.” He faces Richard, and his hand is fidgeting again. The left has gone numb. “I want to see Saint Stephen’s Tower.”

Richard gets the door for him. “If that’s what you want.”

“It is what I want.” _Don’t annoy him. You’d annoy him._

“Good.” Richard laughs lightly. “Afraid they don’t do tours, but we can get a good view and wait for the chimes.” Richard gives a nod and they begin their walk back to the car.

“I've decided on something so you can stop bothering me now. That’s a win in my book.”

Richard grins. “It’s still early, Mister Barrow.”

* * *

It’s a short drive and walk, short enough to catch him off guard. They turn the corner and there it is - the view Thomas had seen in so many photographs: the tower at the end of Westminster Bridge. Wind ruffles the brim of his hat, playfully billowing their coat tails. There’s the sound of traffic and passersby, but Thomas does his best to ignore it.

“Well?” Richard begins with a tilt of the head. “What you wanted, isn’t it?” Thomas nods, looking back at him. “Never seen a clock tower like it before.” His voice dances as he speaks and his cheeks are hot again. “I know it’s stupid-”

“Not at all.” Richard is lighting quick to interrupt him. He nods and steps lightly ahead of him onto the bridge.

“Did you know during the war, they silenced the bell? It was to protect Parliament, so enemies couldn’t hear the chimes.” Thomas says assuring he’s close by him. Richard finds them a nice spot on the bridge and leans against the railing. “I didn’t know that, no.”

It was only after the words have flowed from him that Thomas remembers that Richard’s lived in London for years. He mostly likely- no, _absolutely did_ know that. But no one has ever been brave enough to endure his raving on clocks before, so he lets it go.

_God, his cheeks are burning._

He turns away, looking up to the clock tower again. It’s better seeing it in person, and he wishes he could work with a clock that had such detailing and fine materials (of course on a much, much smaller scale). “Heard the minute hand is made from copper, but the hour hand is made from gunmetal. Think I once read some of the stone is from Yorkshire, if you can believe that.” Richard nods, listening and Thomas takes a moment to himself.

Part of him wants to thank him for his polite interest, while another voice says he’d only embarrass himself if he drew attention to it. _Make it interesting for him_. “Oh, did you know a royal astronomer helped with the design of the clock?” Richard moves a little closer. His eyes are sparkling, and Thomas mentally pats himself on the back.

“I didn’t. Care to explain more, Mister Barrow?”

God, he's smiling like a fool.

“If you want.”

“I do.”

“Then, ah, afraid I don’t remember the year but-”

The conversation would have to wait. Because the hour has changed and echoes of his favourite melody rang out. Whether it was here or at home in Downton, he never got tired of it. Thomas has his eyes up to the sky, but Richard’s are on him.

The chiming comes to an end, and Thomas turns. He’s pleased with this outing, which means it’s now time for payback. “Alright then. What do you want to do?” 

Richard raises his brow. “Me?” He asks this and there is a slight nerve to his voice hidden behind laughter. “Do believe this is your holiday, Mister Barrow.”

“You endured my request, so think it’s only right we do something now that you’d like.” Richard cocks his head, and there is a pause as his eyes focus upward. “Mmm… Really. I’m happy as long as I’m spending time with you.”

“None of that.” Thomas says, giving him a playful jab. “You made me pick, and I picked the most boring thing there is to do in the whole city. So now’s my turn to humour you.” He laughs. Was this something other couples did? He could get used to it.

“Firstly, you’re _not_ boring. And jokes on you, then. We can’t do what I want to do just yet anyway.”

“What’s that, then?”

Richard smiles and his eyes light up. Thomas will never get tired of it. “I want to walk the streets and look at the Christmas lights with you.” Thomas suppresses another smile. He’s not surprised Richard would want to do something so… _greeting card_ with him.

“Good thing it’s winter then. Should be dark soon enough. We could go shopping, then have ourselves some dinner, and go. Besides, I need to get something for Miss Baxter.”

Richard smiles. “I’d like that very much." They begin their trek back but Richard is quick to look over his shoulder at him. “Oh, and you weren’t finished telling me about the astronomer.”


	4. Chapter 4

The two had just finished shopping. Thomas grabbed the door holding it open for Richard, a chill wind greeting them. Richard thanks him, and before Thomas can answer, he gives him a nod to behind him. He turns to come face to face with a dazzling spectacle. Lights twinkle and sparkle, giving the street an almost candle like glow. Some of the lights are soft and simple, while others shine multiple colours like a fantastic thin rainbow. It’s unlike anything he’s ever seen back in York.   
  
Also unlike anything he’s ever seen, is the look on Richard’s face. There’s an awe to him, with his trademark jovial smile and that twinkle in his eyes. But there’s something more too, and Thomas can’t explain it other than it makes him fall all the more in love with him. Thomas must be smiling himself because Richard gives a little laugh when he notices him. 

It doesn’t help with the whole “falling deeper in love with him” thing.

The two take slow paces near each other, both of them looking up in wonder. It feels like something out of a picture book, and the only thing he wishes is that he could hold his hand. One’s onto a shopping bag, and the other is empty and cold beside him. “Everything you were hoping for?” Thomas asks. “Everything and more.” Richard says this in the same cool pleasant voice he’s had the entire time they’ve been together. “Well, you've been so quiet. Been wondering if something's on your mind.” Thomas says. There’s a flicker of something he can’t decipher before Richard smiles again. “Not at all, Mister Barrow. How could I be upset when we’ve the entire city at our disposal?”

“Only checking.” Thomas doesn’t believe him but fears creating a scene if he presses on. You don’t say things like _ “How could I possibly be upset?”  _ unless you are. The two continue on with their stroll, enjoying the lights and storefront displays with promises of discounts and fake snow. They brush shoulders and arms a few times, enough to surely be on purpose but not enough to quell his heart. Thomas makes a mental note to give Richard all the physical affection he can once they’re back in the car.

* * *

“Thank you for humouring me.” Richard says after they’ve reached the end of the street. “Of course. I told you, you put up with me and the clock tower. It’s only right.” Richard smiles at this, looking up again. The lights catch in his blue eyes like stars, and Thomas would like to tell him this but isn’t sure how to make it sound romantic. “I’ll remind you that I did not ‘put up’ with you.” Richard hums looking up at the lights again. There are a few up ahead, but nothing like the display they’ve passed. “Always wanted to do this. Gets lonely here, what with my family back in York. ‘Course I could go myself, but it’s not the same.”

He knew all too well about loneliness. “Yeah.” Thomas’ hand fidgets beside him.

"I appreciate you taking the time to visit me." A smile, and Richard pats him on the shoulder. Thomas fights back a smile. “Walk with me?” Richard nods again. “Already was, wasn’t I?” Thomas says, indeed walking further down the street. “I mean go somewhere a little more private’s all.”

_ Oh. _ Interesting.

“Alright.” Thomas says, almost taking Richard by the hand out of instinct. The two walk a short ways until Richard finds a modestly well lit but empty alleyway. “Fancy a smoke break?” He asks, though Thomas isn’t sure if it’s a genuine question or not. “Could have one.” He says, open to the possibility of one or whatever Richard may have planned.

Both of them press their backs to the cold brick of a building. Richard digs in his coat (Royal Household cards, pendants, and cigarettes- Thomas wonders what else he hides there) and offers Thomas his pack. The two take one each and light up. Richard has his eyes on the way back to the street. He only speaks once he’s certain they’re alone. “D’you know any Polari, Thomas?”

“Do I know what?”

“Polari. It’s a language.” Richard takes a drag, looking up. The sky is as cloudy as it was before: no moon and no stars, but that doesn't stop him. “Um, no. I don’t. I know some phrases in French. Think I might know a word or two of German.” Richard grins, bowing his head and removing the cigarette from his lips. “I don’t know much myself, but can teach you a few words, if you’d like.” Thomas takes a drag of his own cigarette and nods. “Sure.” Expanding your horizons is always good, and of course he’d never turn down a chance to do anything with him. “Alright.” Richard flicks ashes from his cigarette, looking up again - this time in concentration. It’s cute, the way his brow lowers in focus. He looks so serious, and Thomas has to take another drag as a distraction. “I’ve got it.” Richard faces him, offering a pleasant smile and a wave. “ _ Mr. Barrow, how bona to vada your doil eek.”  _ Thomas tilts his head, giving a smile. “Mean ‘how are you’ or something?”

Richard grins. “Something like that.”    
“Well I’m not going to reply to it if you don’t tell me.” 

Richard checks the street again, and once satisfied, he moves in a little closer leaning over Thomas’ shoulder to whisper into his ear. “Means, ‘Mr. Barrow, how lovely it is to see your handsome face’.”

“Oh… so it’s a Romantic language?” Thomas says, painfully aware of the heat swelling in his face. Richard laughs. “It is, isn’t it?”

“Know any other words?” Thomas takes another drag.

There is a pause as Richard thinks. Again, it's adorable. “I know a few more.”

“Teach me.”

Richard tilts his head again, and gives Thomas another smile. “ _ Omi-palone _ . That’s us.”   
“Us?”   
“Yes.  _ Us _ .”

The pieces somewhat click together and Thomas faces Richard. “Where’d this language come from?”

Richard has the same smile on his face the night after he told him to be circumspect. “Do you remember the surprise I had planned?

* * *

“Remember, say the word and we’ll go home.”

“You mean back to the hotel? Or am I getting a midnight train?”

Richard gives him a look and laughs. Just what he was hoping for. “You knew what I meant.”

Thomas grins. “I did, but I wanted to have fun with you.”    
  
They’re in a different part of London now. There are a few strings of lights here and there, but it’s mostly windows that flicker and glow from occupied residents. The sky is terribly dark, a haze of clouds and endless sea of black above them. It was also much more quiet out here, and Thomas thought it safer to walk closer beside him. “Down here.” Richard says, leading Thomas to another alley. He doesn’t stop and approaches a side door, giving it a few knocks.

_ “Charpering-omi?”  _ A man’s voice says from the other side after a second or two.

_ “Nanti, omi-palone.”  _ Richard answers. Thomas knows what one of those words means, at least.

_ “Bona, bona.” _ The voice says, and Thomas can hear the clicks and slides of locks undoing themselves. Richard takes the time to face him again. “Remember, we don’t have to stay. We don’t even have to enter.”

“Well now you’ve got me curious.” Especially if Thomas was correct in assuming what  _ “omi-palone”  _ meant. Of course, the possibility of being correct stirs in his stomach. 

Richard smiles and takes him by the hand as the door opens. “Ah,” Thomas says, his face burning again. Richard flinches. “Do we need to stop and head home?”

“The hotel, and no.” Thomas says, biting his lip in a vain attempt to hide his anxiety and blushing.

The man guarding the door gives them a nod and smile as they pass, quick to shut it behind them and secure the locks again. They’re in a hall now, carpet stained with wine and dust, Thomas can make out the faint muffle of jazz from another room. Richard’s still clutching his hand as they walk, and Thomas can sense that he too is nervous (not comforting). He anticipates Richard telling him again that they can “go home” if needed.

There are a few people out here in the hall, mostly talking. Men and women, women and women, men and men... he glances as they pass. And before they can reach where they’re going, it hits him like a freight train.

“Is this a- Is this a-” His mouth is dry again. His knees fall weak and his hand cramps up in Richard’s. “Do we need to go home?” Right on time.

“I don’t know.” Damn it all, he’s worked himself up so badly he can’t even joke with him. Richard leads him through an open door to a sort of makeshift lounge. It’s almost silent here and there are tables and sofas arranged with candles lit. Richard sits Thomas down, and joins his side. Both of them sink into the cushions. “Alright. Yes, it is. I thought… since we didn’t get a chance to go to Turton’s together, thought I’d take you to a London club. Is that alright?” Richard’s gone pale, and Thomas fears how pale he must be if that’s how he looks in this dim candlelit room. “I… I dunno. I mean, I’d love to. I’d love to with you… I um. I-”

“I shouldn't had made it a big deal. That was my fault." Blank eyes meet Richard, and h e doesn’t notice at first when he holds his hand again. “Thomas,” He begins as his  hold on Thomas’ hand tightens. Thomas hadn’t realised how cold he was until he felt his warmth. “I wanted to do something special. I wanted to... I want you to be happy with who you are.”

“Who says I’m not?” Thomas says it before he can even think. Richard sighs. “Don’t mean to offend. But we have a community, Thomas. And I think you deserve more than anyone to be a part of it. To feel normal and safe. It’s why I introduced you to Polari, maybe you can use it to meet some like minded friends..”

Thomas blinks. “What’s  _ omi-palone _ mean?”

Richard offers him a soft smile. “I told you. It’s the word for men like us. It’s our language.”

“Our… our language?” Thomas’ brow knits. They have a language? Hearing Richard actually confirm it feels… too good to be true. Too fantastical. “I didn’t…” It’s all a bit too much, this tug of happiness and fear. He wants to both run and stay. It's exhausting. “I didn’t know.”

“And now you do.” He smiles in that way only Richard Ellis can.

He’s right, but it could have saved him a lot of heartache and trouble over the years. How much easier could his life had been if he’d just said, “Hey  _ omi-palone _ ?” to every man he fancied and watched to see how they responded?  Damn. “Wish I could had known sooner. I feel out of sorts. Like… I don’t really fit in ‘cause I’m new at this. And I’m not exactly young.” He looks over to a younger gent sleeping in the lap of his boyfriend. Both of them looked about in their early or mid twenties. “You’re not old either.” Richard says. “Never too late to learn, to find your place amongst the stars, Thomas.”

Thomas looks down, realising he was bouncing his knee. Truth be told, he’s nervous. Extremely nervous. His first time in one of these sorts of places, and it went to hell in an instant. He swallows, removing his hand from Richards to rub a thumb over his glove. “What do we do if something happens?” He tries best he can to remain a collected composure. The last thing he wants is another meltdown like last night. He can’t stand the thought of facing the idea of Richard pitying him again.

“I assure you, I wouldn’t bring you here if it wasn’t safe.” Richard raises a hand and runs a caress over his cheek. Thomas wonders if he can feel how hot his face is. “Remember what I told you?”

“To be more circumspect in the future. Never forgot that.”

“Well speaking Polari’s about as circumspect as it gets.” Richard leans over and gives Thomas a kiss on the cheek. Thomas has been looking down this entire time, almost in guilt but mostly fear. He frowns, it’s bitter and his hands are cold. “Now do you want to go ho-, I mean, return to the hotel? Or do you want to dance? I will not judge you either way, seeing as I have had a wonderful day with you. I take full responsibility for worrying you.”

Thomas releases his hands from Richard’s and fidgets for a moment, running fingers over his gloved hand again. It always comforts him. He weighs his options, frowning when Richard blames himself. Not his fault Thomas is a mess.

“I want to dance.” It was simple.

Richard grins, standing up and offering his hand for Thomas. At least if all hell were to break loose, he was with the love of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: “doil” is actually spelt “dolly”. But I decided to spell it phonetically for the dialogue.  
> Polari is a piece of queer history I always found very interesting and was sad it was never brought up in Downton! So I had fun writing this. :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was struck with writer's block and got busy with the holidays, so I apologise for the late chapter!  
> The next one is the finale. :)

Thomas holds him close, moving in time with the rhythm of jazz music. It’s classier than Turton’s, with a dim chandelier overhead and the scent of champagne and whiskey in the air. People laugh and chatter subdued like ghosts from love letters. They’re not really dancing, not any more. They gave up on that a while ago - hours maybe? He isn’t sure. He’s unsure of the time, but is certain it is later in the night from the sparsity of the dance floor.    
Perhaps to outsiders, their dance (if you can call it that) is provocative - the way their bodies are pressed together, with Thomas’ face in the crook of Richard’s neck with arms thrown around him. It’s more of a tight embrace with swaying, and for once Thomas isn’t too concerned with how it may look. The fear is quick and passing.

“I don’t want to go home tomorrow.” Thomas admits, his voice a cool whisper for Richard only. They step back and forth together for a moment longer, perhaps Richard’s thinking or perhaps he hadn’t heard him at first. 

Then he answers him. “We’ll write. Perhaps we could meet for Valentine’s Day?”

He doesn’t want to wait that long.

“I’ll have to start planning for it now, to make sure of it.” Richard doesn’t respond, but he does bring Thomas a little closer into their awkward dance-hug.

* * *

It’s just as Richard promised - wonderfully uneventful. No police raids or arrests, no reason to be afraid. They walk hand in hand back up to the door, and Richard gets it for him like a proper gentleman.   
But once they’re back out into the quiet city streets, he steps lightly beside him with brisk confidence but not offering.   
Thomas understands, but part of him wants to hold onto Richard. Just a little longer, the last few hours of dancing wasn’t enough. He wonders if it’ll ever be enough as the cool night air brushes their cheeks.

“I apologise again for springing it on you, but I do hope you enjoyed yourself.” Thomas wishes Richard wouldn’t do that. He’s done it the entire time they’ve been together, focused on pleasing him. Before they’d met, if Thomas imagined having a man in his life to fulfill every whim and do anything for him, it would had only be something in his dreams. Never a reality.

But what about Richard and what he wanted?   
It didn’t feel good to be taking and taking and _ taking _ . It was nice at first, but it had long overstayed its welcome. Richard had given him so much: helped him with his prank call scheme, cheered him up when he was down on multiple occasions, got him out of bloody jail, and been unbelievably patient and kind.

He thought about this as they walked back to the hotel together, a blotted sky above them concealing the stars and moon. As they walk, he catches glimpses of Richard looking up anyway. He wishes they could had stargazed together. Just another thing he would wish and hope to share with him in the future.

Richard gets the door for him again, and it’s a gesture that can’t help to distract him from how he’s feeling.  _ Should had gotten it for him myself _ .   
The hotel lobby is silent except for some rather annoying buzzing lights. They traverse the aged halls and Richard has to get the door to their room since he has the key.

It’s nice to be back in privacy. The club was nice, but a bit overwhelming. Right now it’s quiet and dark, Thomas turns on a lamp and it feels homey. This small hotel room is composed from worn fabrics and plaster, but it’s a space that’s theirs.

Richard’s already undressing, folding his jacket with such autonomous care. Thomas finds it charming. A bit horrifying from the implications of his life in service, but charming nonetheless. Everything about Richard is so  _ meticulous _ . Perfectly crafted and formed.

Thomas is feeling a little daring so he undresses to his shirtsleeves, sliding off his trousers to expose undergarments and socks with garter belts. Richard gives a smile his way, and that’s what Thomas was hoping for. Of course, he’s also much too tired to change into proper nightwear. That’s what he thinks, but he won’t share that with him.

Thomas climbs into bed, and it hits him how worn out he really is. He doesn’t bother turning over, but can hear Richard moving the beds back together. Arms and legs wrap around him, and that does him in. He turns a bit with a smile, meeting Richard and giving him a kiss. 

Perhaps for all his exhaustion, he’s not ready to sleep just yet.

“I love you, Richard Ellis.” Thomas admits. It’d been at the back of his mind since yesterday, pushed aside and buried. But it feels right to say, and if he didn’t, he worries that’d do more harm than good. Richard smiles and tells him “I love you too, Thomas Barrow.”

He enjoys hearing him call him “Thomas”. It’s a little thing they can only have in private that means the world.

Thomas slides in closer, cuddling up with him under their blankets. Richard moves with an arm around him so Thomas may lay on his chest. God, it’s always the smallest things that make him smile. Thomas has no doubt in his mind that he really does love him. “I wish I could do more for you.” He says, resting his eyes for a moment.

“You’ve done more than enough already.” Richard says, a hand around his shoulder. _ Safe- _ Thomas feels safe. “I know but-” God he  _ knows _ . Ever since their first outing together, they’ve had this back-and-forth. Thomas wants to show his gratitude for… everything about him. And Richard always tells him not to mind.   
But he really does mean it, especially now that they’re together.  _ Really _ together, an arrangement for themselves and not a visit of happenstance or confined to letters.

“You always make sure I’m happy and… and safe.” He stammers a bit, feeling uncertain of his words. It comes out sappy and he feels his heart jump from embarrassment. Richard laughs, sitting up just enough to get a look at Thomas’ face (That makes it worse). “Of course, what sort of suitor would I be if I didn’t?”

Talking is difficult. He tries anyway. “I want you to enjoy yourself too.”

“I do, every moment I’m with you.”

Thomas frowns. “No, I- I want you to focus on yourself a bit. Be a little more selfish.” Richard raises a brow. “Goodness, Mister Barrow.” It’s a playful tease, but Thomas is serious.   
“I had to drag you by the teeth to get you to go look at the lights, is all I’m saying.” He runs a hand across him, fingers tracing up to his chest in circles. “It’s not right, you always hiding yourself for me.”

Richard gives him a look. “Thomas, I am myself with you.” 

He shakes his head. “Not as much as you could be.” He wraps his arms around him, embracing his love. How can he get through to him? Let him know what he means.

He loves Richard for who he is:  _ him _ \- Richard Ellis, suave and confident. Funny, and unbelievably kind. Not just because he’s another man like himself who’d give him the time of day.   
  
And it’s a damn shame he suppresses it.   
Must be a habit from work. Royal bastards.

They lay in silence together, wrapped up in each other’s arms. It should be peaceful, but Thomas feels anything but tranquil. He can hear the hum of radiators and lights. London is never truly quiet and calm.

“You mean the world to me.” Richard says after a moment. “Think that’s why I want to see you happy, more than anything. Because I know you’ve been dealt a few bad hands before.” 

That’s true, but he doesn’t want his pity. “Appreciate the thought, but you don’t have to worry about me all the time.” Thomas thinks back to an earlier time when such a sentiment would had made him snap with aggression or venomous sarcasm. And he takes a moment to think about how right now, it doesn’t, because he trusts Richard.

Maybe he’s growing soft and tired in his older age.

“Some days, think I should be the one worrying about _you_. That’s all I’m saying.” He says this with legs against legs and arms around him, head rising and falling upon his chest. He’s clinging to him like a child, but he means it. Thomas would damn well do _anything_ for Richard. He’s in love, and there’s no going back. “So let me worry about you.” Thomas finds it difficult to keep his eyes open, but persists for him. This conversation is too important. Richard smiles, brushing his hair back. “Don’t think anyone’s been so worried about me in such a long while.”

_ He’s downplaying it,  _ Thomas thinks. He wonders if Richard has been burned before like he has from their shallow world. The fingers are always pointing, and men like them: working class, or men-loving or what have you are always the easiest targets.

“Well, I do. So get used to it.” He smiles and Richard kisses him again.  What matters is that at the end of the day, it feels  _ good _ , to be two men in love. 

“You can start making me happy by being more open about yourself, and letting me see you.”

“Have I not been?” Richard raises a brow again. Thomas loves it when he does that.

“Next time I ask what you want to do, don’t argue with me. Alright?”

Another kiss for good measure. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Mister Barrow.” Richard shifts on the bed, careful to give himself space to sit up without disturbing Thomas. Another smile, stars dancing in his blue eyes. “And Merry Christmas, Thomas.” He cups his face, kissing him again before Thomas can get a good look. Content, he glances at their room’s clock. It’s half past two in the morning, December 25th. “Merry Christmas, Richard.” 

* * *

It’s another cold morning, and Richard had gotten up before him. This time, he stayed behind so Thomas wakes up to his presence. “Good morning.” he yawns, stretching in bed. Richard is tidying up the room, having already separated the beds and sorting his things. “Morning, darling.” It’s too early for that, and Thomas smiles with a faint blush. He tilts his head against the pillow, watching Richard. He's half dressed too, in shirtsleeves and suspenders. “You’re looking quite ready. Tired of me already?” Thomas says, rubbing his eyes. Richard smiles, folding up a shirt or something and securing it in his case. “Habit, I suppose. The Royal Household demands perfection and order, and I haven’t been able to shake it.”  
  
That’s what Thomas meant. It’s nice, seeing him open up. Now he can help.  
  
“Shame, and I thought I had it bad at Downton.” He stretches again, sitting up properly. _Let him wake up a little more first, then he’s going to give Richard the tightest embrace_ … “Lucky to have each other, aren’t we?” Thomas says. Richard smiles at him, and his eyes brighten with starlight. He’s folding a jacket, preparing his belongings for when they have to leave. It’s like a taste of salt water when he remembers their limited time. “Right you are, darling. Not a day goes by I’m not thankful to have met you.” Richard moves to his side, sitting on the bed. He reaches over to caress Thomas’ face with gentle strokes, their eyes meeting. Thomas grins, and Richard interrupts it with a kiss.

God, he loves how Richard kisses him first! No hesitation, no fear, no worries of if he loves him. Richard wears his heart openly for him to see, and that’s why Thomas wants to take care of him.

He wants Richard to make Richard smile. Repay him for his kindness.

He kisses him back, and the world feels at peace. 

As they pull away, Richard slides his hand down to take Thomas’ in his own. Gentle warmth fills him, and Richard runs his thumb over Thomas’ knuckles with such care and passion like piano keys. “So, it’s our last day together.” Thomas says.

“For now,” Richard corrects him, kissing his hand. It’s a good thing Thomas is sitting down, because he feels himself falling weak at the knees. Richard lifts his lips from his hand, a warm smile on his face. Thomas notices his dimples, course he’s seen them before, but something about this moment causes him to really notice. He’s stupidly in love, and he doesn’t know how to handle it. 

“For now, yes. ‘Til we meet again.”

“Mmmhmm,” It’s like a hum as Richard moves to kiss Thomas along the neck, careful to get his collarbone and cheek as well. “Ah,” Thomas sighs. Too, too early for this, he thinks. But Richard is overflowing romance all the time, so he shouldn’t be surprised. 

Their lips meet again. No, he’s not over the kisses just yet. “Why do you kiss me so much?” Thomas whispers into his ear when given a moment to breath. “Because, darling Thomas, I want to make up for all those years you didn’t have any.” Thomas almost corrects him, not seeking sympathy. But of course, Richard hushes him with a kiss.   
“And, because I love you, and adore you, and it’s fun.”


End file.
